You will be the death of me
by BrownFeather
Summary: The most unapproachable, the grumpiest, the most farouche and the wariest man of Kirkwall has to share his home with a person that is impulsive, unquiet and potentially crazy. A thing that cannot come to any good. People may think.
1. Chapter 1: A night-time visit

_A/N:_

_This is a translation of the fanfiction „You will be the death of me…" by Billini. _

_You can find the original version on fanfiktion . de. _

_I have her permission to do this translation. None of the invented characters that don't belong to BioWare nor the story belongs to me; the translation is mine._

**You will be the death of me**

**A night-time visit **

Silently and in an adroit way Liz climbed the balustrade and nosed forward over the handrail of the balcony. The haversack on her back was heavy, but she had managed to arrange the pack's content to where she hardly felt the weight.

At the thought of how rewarding her little adventure during this night had been, she could always rub her hands together. It was indeed amazing to see how careless the high nobility of Kirkwall got when enough wine had flown.

Soft-footedly she approached the double door leading into the deserted house, and opened it. Some weeks ago she had oiled the hinges. Although she hadn't been here since – urgent matters had made her leave Kirkwall temporarily – you still couldn't hear a sound.

With a sigh she dropped the backpack on the floor entering the familiar chill of the building. The air smelled dusty and dry, mixed with a tart, slightly spicy scent.

_Hold it, that is new… _

The attack happened so fast she hadn't even time to scream.

A hand tightly grasped her throat in a grip as strong as iron. In front of her eyes there was a silvery blue glimmer. She reacted instinctively, wriggling and bending in a way that had already saved her neck a thousand times. She slipped and kicked away her assailants' legs. She rebounded, jumped into a crouched position and looked up.

Her assailant didn't hesitate. She swore loudly and unpleasantly when she had to take to the boats with a second, ungainly leap.

He was fast, inaudible… and he gleamed.

_What the blazes…? _

Adrenaline suffused her when he grabbed her ankle and dragged her to the ground. She slipped under him and tossed her knee up. He grunted in pain, the first audible sound to escape him. Encouraged she struck out at his throat with the side of her hand but missed it because he managed to grab her wrist previously. Pain flashed through her arm as he roughly pinned it under him, using all of his weight to hold her to the ground. However, she wasn't particularly svelte nor was he as big as other men, so it caused some difficulties for him to retain her.

Without further ado she bit into his neck. Forcefully.

He grunted and swore in a foreign language she didn't know. The next moment he leapt up and back, then attacked her again when she hardly had moved.

This time she had no chance. Before knowing what exactly happened, he had grabbed her arms and threw her to the nearest wall bracing himself against her.

Then his hand was in her chest.

Not at her chest, but IN her chest.

She panicky gasped for air and squirmed with pain when she felt how his fingers grabbed her heart and squeezed. She broke into perspiration and her nails dug into his shoulders which were covered with a close-fitting armor.

"Who sent you?" he growled into her face.

She hardly heard what he said her fear and horror becoming rampant. Panicking she tried to wriggle away.

"Please…" she coughed trying to catch his eye and to bring him to his senses. "You… are killing me!"

Silence, followed by a quiet, menacing: "That's what I mean to do."

Liz froze and looked into his face which could hardly be figured out in the dark of the room. She could see that his hair was bright and parts of his body were glowing.

"Damn it, you freak, let go of me!" she spat. "Nobody sent me. And what are you actually doing in my house?"

He froze and his glowing waned. Then, after seconds seeming eternal to her, he took his hand out of her body. With a relieved groan she slumped to the ground and dashed away at her sweaty hair.

"_Your_ house?" he asked.

"Yes" she replied. "_My house_. What the blazes are you doing here?"

"It was empty!"

"Because I wasn't here!"

"So you claim this deserted, sordid building inhabited by rats and spiders to be yours?"

"Since very recently there is also living here a _freak_!"

With a snarl he approached her and started to glow again. "Don't call me that!"

"How else shall I call you, then?" she hissed and planted herself in front of him. „You jump at me and stick your hand into my chest!"

Silence followed while they stared at each other. Then she said: "Switch on the light!"

She could almost see his frown. "Why?"

"Because I would like to see the freak… sorry, the _man_ I'm fighting with."

For some seconds he still stared at her, then grumbled and left the room.

"What… Hey!" she called and followed him. „You can't just go! I'm not finished yet…" The last words she told the door as he slammed it shut.

He was in her room. Where the only working fireplace stood.

Swearing she turned round and trudged back to her backpack. The thought about following him, but considering the _I-stick-my-hand-into-you-_thing she decided against it. Suddenly her heart started to race as she thought about how close she had come to dying.

Who in the world was he?

She knew it would be intelligent to allow the whole thing go. She could find another place, there were plenty in Kirkwall, but unfortunately none were available in Hightown which was home to the beautiful and rich whose pockets she loved to pick…just because she hadn't been here for some weeks didn't mean he had the right to take it from her.

_Don't be silly, Liz_ she tried to bring herself to reason. Your _life is more worth than any principle._

As always she didn't listen to herself and instead choose one of the other rooms. Then she slumped on the dusty divan standing next to the wall and immediately fell asleep.

She woke up when he left his room. She got up silently and looked out of her room. It was morning and soft light came from the windows and let the dust in the air dance.

The first thing she saw was his hair, thick and white as snow. The next thing was his armour… He obviously had a _big _problem when he dared to go on the street with this. Her trained eyes observed how smooth he moved, like a cat. Then he turned his head and noticed her.

Her breath stopped. He was… ravishing. Deep green eyes, beautifully curved ears and tattoos on his chin. She would have liked to know how far they went on on his body.

"You are still here!" he growlingly detected while she tried to close her mouth and not make mooneyes at him too obviously. She saved herself with a joke: "I'm happy to see you discovered the obvious."

He lightly frowned. "There are enough funnymen in my life already. Get lost!"

„Oh, really? May I meet them?"

„Whom?"

„Your funnymen-friends!"

He looked at her like she was crazy which was sometimes true. "No."

"Don't be a spoilsport."

"Do you want to aggravate me?"

"After I saw your ability last night? Surely not!"

"So why are you still here?"

"Maybe I like my heart being crushed by a man?"

He snorted, rolled his eyes and turned away. "When I return back this evening, you are gone." Then he left.

Her eyes narrowed while following him. He couldn't suspect that he had just made one of the biggest faults of his life: challenging her. This annoyed, grumpy, strange elf should learn what it meant to tangle with her. She was a gambler. And she never lost.


	2. Chapter 2: Charade

Charade

When he was gone, Liz went into his room and looked around. She had no guilty conscience at all because neither ownership nor privacy had ever meant much to her.

The fire in the chimney was cold The room smelled like him, tart and slightly spicy. At least she assumed that it was his smell for the last time she had been in this building the smell hadn't been there.

Except for some wine bottles and scattered clothes there were no personal items. No pictures, nothing which could tell her more about him. It didn't surprise her; it was more than obvious that this man was on the run. From who or what she didn't know, but she wanted find out.

She took an empty bottle and sniffed. She didn't know the wine, but it smelled sweet and luscious. Not what she would have considered the taste in wines of this man. Interesting…

Deeply buried in thought she went to the third room on the third floor and abruptly stopped.

In front of her there was a corpse, not putrescent, but in an awkwardly preserved state. Her hackles got up when she identified indications of magic use. Unfortunately she had more experience with this than the common man.

A few times she breathed deeply and struggled with her panic and memories.

Then she examined the corpse. The style of the clothes was strange, but she thought she had once seen something similar on a merchant's guard.

She couldn't remember his origin anymore, only that she hadn't tried to steal anything because of his wary, heavily armed escort.

She left the room and went back to her chamber. She stopped in front of the tarnished mirror and stared at herself. Her hair had gotten much too long. She would have to cut it. But before that she would have to restock and to prepare for the elf's return.

She took her long blonde wig and a plain dress which was padded in front to give her extra lift and enhanced her cleavage. Grabbing a wicker basket, she headed to the Hightown market.

It was still early in the day, the booths had just opened. With a shy look she went to the herbs booth and placed her orders. The merchant knew her as a timid maid servant, and thought she served a slightly _odd_ master, for she bought mostly aphrodisiacs and laming poisons. However, he didn't deem necessary to help Liz out of her situation. That was fine for her. Every man for himself, this was a lesson she had had to learn very early.

Next she went to the gallery above the place and met her dealer. He glanced into her basket and – as always – made a much too small offer. She raised an eyebrow and told him he could stuff it. His offer got higher, and she replied that she'd rather go to the Blooming Rose and be a streetwalker than to sell her goods at this price. It went on like that, step for step, until they split the difference.

She loved bargaining. It gave her a rush of adrenaline like stealing.

On the way back she went for some bread, cheese and sausage and allowed herself a new tunic. The more she approached the elf's house, the more she kept an ear to the ground in order to hear the neighbours' gossip. It was impossible that no one had noticed him, and soon she heard the latest rumours.

"His master left him back in order to prepare everything…"

"Prepare what?" a breathless voice asked.

"A secret ritual. They say he is from Tevinter and was a great magister there…"

_Mmm, Tevinter, that was it_, she thought.

"Have you seen who often visits him?", a new voice barged in. "Men who look very ominous. And this woman wearing hardly anything… shaming…"

Interesting, though… Apparently the sullen elf wasn't that aloof.

Her head humbly bowed, she passed the group and entered the building. _Another rumour – what about it! _she thought, slightly grinning.

Then she went to her room, sat in front of the mirror, took her wig off and used her keen dagger for cutting her dark brown wisps. When she was finished her hair was again short enough to put a wig on without any problems.

She began to blend her poisons, prepare her weapons and stock the little bags at the inside of her leather weskit. When she was finished, she ate, attired her tunic and started to explore the rest of the building. She found some more corpses and put some drops of a liquid that would make them decompose within the next hour. Then she went into the high main hall, looked at the walls and started climbing.

Soon she was absorbed in the feeling of exertion and concentration. Her muscles strained and sweat came out of her skin. It was difficult to make the way from one side of the room to the other, but she made it without having to set her foot on the ground a single time. When she arrived at the other side she heard the front door and paused. She remained hovering just above the door leading into the main hall and waited.

He entered the room soft-footedly, a huge broadsword on his back he hadn't had with him this morning. Liz involuntarily asked herself how he could carry it so easily. He had the slight muscular built of an elf, not one of a human warrior. Another riddle she had to solve… she liked riddles. Especially this one.

He rubbed his neck while he climbed the steps leading to his room. He still hadn't noticed her.

"You know" she said jumping to the floor and seeing him spinning round "if I had wanted it, you'd be dead now!"

The elf again had begun to glow, and fascinated she realized that it were his tattoos. _It's getting more and more interesting…_

"What part of _You are gone when I'm_ _back_ didn't you understand?" he asked. That moment she understood that the low, raucous sound in his voice didn't originate from the constant growling but it indeed was the voice itself.  
>In which situations could his voice sound the same… maybe still a bit more hoarsely? <p>

"Well?"

"What?" she jumped and noticed that he had approached her. "Er… right… You asked me something!" He slowly raised an eyebrow. She unfurled her arms and smiled. "You just got a new housemate. I am Liz!"

"No." Was all he said.

"Well, freak, it's not like you had any say. Strictly speaking you can be glad that I don't turn you adrift…"

"No" he repeated and approached her so close that she could almost touch him. They stood face to face and she had to control her breath when she realized how… hot he was.  
>Although he looked like he'd like to kill her. In a slow and painful way.<p>

„What no?" she finally asked and winced when noticing how cussedly girlish her voice sounded.

"No you won't stay here. Go. Now!"

"No!" 

He growled in an enervated way and grabbed her arm. At least he tried to. She sprang back and got out of his reach, crouching on the floor ready to jump. She looked up to him. He looked amazed and then angry.

"You see" she said. "You're not fast enough."

Without any warning he slithered forward and she jumped up and again avoided his grip. She leapt onto the handrail and balanced up. He raised both eyebrows and watched her watchful and biding like a hunter. She crossed her arms and smiled down to him.

„What's your name?"

For long time he didn't say anything, then he responded: „Fenris."

"Well, Fenris, it's this: the house is big enough for both of us. None of us wants anyone to sniff around in here. I know that you are on the run from someone and I promise I will do everything to find out who it is." Now he frowned again. "Not in order to give you out but because otherwise I'll die of curiosity. I won't tell anybody you're here because then I would have to give up my hideout, too. So you see: there is no reason to comport yourself anymore. This living community fits us just right."

He canted his head to the side and seemed to ponder. „Are you able to clean?"

"I… what?" Now he had definitely managed to make her speechless.

"Are you deaf?"

„No, I'm not" she hissed. "If you mean to dispose of corpses going stale, I am able to do this, yes. What's wrong with you just letting them lie around in here?" She accusingly pointed a finger at the room behind her.

"I would have put them away" he said and shrugged his shoulders. "They weren't decaying for Dana… someone has casted an odd spell on them."

"I also noticed that, thanks for the hint."

His eyes narrowed. "You are familiar with magic?"

"I know enough about it for giving it a wide berth."

His corner of his mouth twitched. Was that a smile?

"So, what's your answer?" she repeated and with the utmost meticulousness watched his mouth. Damn it, why was she so far away? If she'd be closer, she could have seen i fit was a smile or not…

"Why do you stare at my mouth?"

Her cheeks went red. She swung off the handrail and sauntered down the steps. "Maybe I like it?"

Was it normal to dream of a man she had met no more than twice? Probably not… 

He frowned again and stared at her like he tried to figure her out.

_The best of luck, then!_ She secretly thought and smiled, saying: „Relax, elf. I will try not to go for you at night and abuse you. Fear not."

Now he snorted and gave a short laugh. It was not a pleased sound. "Fearing you? Surely not."

Her eyes narrowed. „A short time ago I could have…"

"… not have killed me, even if you had tried to. You don't bear it in you."

"What?"

"The strength or the hardness, call it as you like." He turned his back on her and went on. "Stay, if you are bent on this. You will see that it won't work. But who am I to put you right?"

He went away into his room and closed the door.

She sighed inwardly and thought that this would be a long summer. 


	3. Chapter 3: An evening at home

**An evening at home **

Two days running she didn't see Fenris. The first day he left so early and inaudible that she didn't wake up and found the mansion deserted when she finally left her room. In the evening, Liz was already abed when he returned. What to say – she liked sleeping. It was not often that she had time and leisure for that.

Currently, she had enough money to pull through. So she spent the day at the market, again dressed as the blonde servant, nibbling candied apples and buying some more clothes. She harkened the people's gossip, watched a fighting couple and justified herself to some guardsmen. They were actually searching for a thief who had robbed some nobles from Hightown.

In the evening she was bored stiff. It had always been like that: she couldn't stand doing nothing.

Back in Fenris' mansion – her mansion, actually – she aimlessly wandered, halfheartedly practiced climbing and, finally, found herself in his room. Again. She ignited the fire in the chimney and sat in front of it, staring into the flames.

It would be nice to not be alone. To have someone to talk to. Maybe hug… or to pull off each other's clothes, sometime later on.

Liz sighed, stood up and took one of his wine bottles. She sat down again and drank.

Damn it, that brew tasted nearly excruciatingly sweet. She coughed, cleaned her lips and went on drinking. It tasted better the more she took a pull on the bottle.

One hour, and one and a half bottles later, she danced through the room whirling around, dressed in one of her new clothes with a dark brown long-haired wig. She missed her long hair. Actually she also missed music, but you couldn't have everything.

Grinning she took another hit, turned around… and faced two men and a dwarf staring flabbergasted at her.

The first thought crossing her mind was that she actually should be ashamed.

The second, that Fenris indeed had very _interesting _friends.

The first one, wearing a shield and a sword, was muscular, dark-haired and bearded and who had started to grin. Next to him there was a man with a three-day stubble, blond hair and an outré feather cloak, watching her with his eyebrows perked and a crooked smile. The dwarf had chest hair – much of it – and an enormous crossbow on his back.

"Friend of yours, Broody?" he asked.

Hearing this nickname, a laugh blurted out of her. It died down when she looked at Fenris.  
>The elf stood in the room, his whole body fraught and his hands clenched to fists. His cheeks were slightly red.<p>

Squeaking she jumped back, threw the bottle away and lifted her hands. "He will kill me!"

The dark-haired man laughed and approached her. "Not as long as we are here."

"Yes" she answered and tried to get the fog out of her head and make a meaningful sentence. "_As long as_ being the operative words."

"I'm bound to say, Fenris" the blonde barged in "You often spring a surprise."  
>"Out!" was the crunched answer.<br>The atmosphere abruptly changed. The three others became vigilant wary.

„Fenris…"

„I said OUT!"

They hesitated, but didn't go.

Liz ducked towards the wall and looked around for something to stand upon her defense.

"I'm sorry Fenris, but when you are this angry, I can't leave you alone with her…" the bearded man finally said.

"I won't _harm her_, Hawke" the elf snarled "I have to… talk something over with her."

The man called Hawke hesitated again, then he nodded and left the room together with the blonde man and the dwarf. "We'll meet tomorrow."

"Check if I'm still alive!" she cat-called at them before Fenris slammed the door shut.

She was alone. With him. Cooped up. He would kill her!

"What's your problem?" she managed to say and pushed away from the wall in order to get the desk between them.

"_My problem_?" He asked. "You ask about _my problem_?"  
>"Is it about the wine?" she got into it and moved around the desk while he followed her. "I'll make good for it."<br>"Oh. You travel to Tevinter and buy some new wine there?"

"Uh, the wine!" she spat. "That kind of sweet swill you get at every turn…!"  
>She jerked when the heavy gloves on his fists crashed on the table. His eyes burned with anger. She abruptly got more sober realizing that he really was <em>bleeding aboil<em>.

"Listen" she tried to back down. "I didn't know you'd make a big thing out of that…"

"Liz, right?"

She frowned and felt that she actually got restive now. "Yes, Liz, thanks for remembering that freak!"

He ignored that, though he clenched his fists a little stronger. "Liz, if you dare enter this room again without being asked…"

"What then?" she hissed. "You'll kill me?"

They flashed their eyes at each other while standing at opposite sides of the table. She refused to look away, although he was very good at staring, too.

"I told you it wouldn't work" he finally said. "Why don't you just go away?"

She exhaled while her intensity waned. "I like being here."

"I don't like you being here."

"Fenris, right?"  
>He darted her an angry glance and waited. Liz made a face.<p>

"I… notice that I shouldn't have done that" she continued. "But it had been a long day; I was idle and really bored. Your wine was there just in the nick of time. You weren't here for my brabbling."

"So this is all my fault?"

"Put like this: Yes!"

"You know that is absurd?"

"Yes."

"You know you are crazy?"  
>Liz grinned. There it was, a little quirk in the corner of his mouth.<p>

"You are doing it again!"

She looked confused.

He sighed and explained: "You stare at my mouth."

The residual alcohol made her giggle. Then she tried to be sober again. She put her hand on her chest. "I promise faithfully not to enter your room again. Unless I am at risk of freezing… or I urgently need a dark pair of leather leggings… or I need to grind my dagger with the prickles of your armor…"  
>She flinched, laughing again when he approached her with a warning gesture. Then she bobbed a courtesy and went to her room before he could change his mind and get angry again. She cheerfully put her wig away, got her dress off and went to bed.<p>

The next morning Liz woke up to the noise of rhythmical thobs. Her head pounded.

Liz stood up and staggered. She pressed her hand on her forehead and nearly tripped over her boots. Having reached the handrail of the stairs she stopped and stared at the scene being enacted right now.

Fenris exercised. He stroke at a training manikin with his broadsword, he always stopped the move some centimeters before hitting it.  
>The manikin was actually wearing her dress and her wig.<p>

"That is very grown-up indeed, freak!" she hissed and flinched when pain shot through her head. "So much for respecting privacy!"

"I knocked on the door" he replied, training on. His voice didn't sound breathless at all, although she could see sweat all over his skin. "You didn't answer and when I came in you lay on your bed like you were dead."

"You would have liked that, I'm sure!"

"Let's say, I could imagine worse." He made a sidestep and decapitated her – no, the doll, the _doll_. He turned around and all of a sudden looked very peculiar.

"What's the matter now?" she groaned enervated.

This time you could clearly see the smile. "Did you possibly forget something?"

"Huh?"

"Getting dressed, for instant?"  
>She felt her face flush when she noticed that she only had her underwear on. Liz resisted the compulsion of covering herself with her arms. Instead she gave him a challenging look, turned around and went back to her room.<p>

Her exit would have been a lot more impressive if she had been able to throw her hair back and had possessed noteworthy curves. Yet you had to be happy with what you had, and the certainty that his eyes followed her, was enough for the moment.


	4. Ch 4: About thieves, slaves and pirates

**About thieves, slaves and pirates  
><strong> 

The rest of the morning Liz sat in her room and pitied herself. Her headache didn't want to vanish, her tongue was without sensation and felt swollen. Liz was quite good at herbalism, but unfortunately she hadn't found a way to cure a hangover yet.

Her stomach growled, reminding her it had been awhile since she last ate. She ventured out of her room to find something eatable. She noticed, surprised, that Fenris was still there. The door was ajar and she dared to approach and peek into his room. He sat on the bench in front of the fireplace and cleaned his broadsword, again – or still – wearing his strange armor. She wanted to call attention to herself, but for the first time Liz had seen him he seemed relaxed, so she decided to leave him in peace. They would clash again soon enough.

She turned around silently and hurried down the stairs. Through the ceiling windows – being rather holes than windows - she could see the sunny weather and the leaves whirled around by the wind. It was a good thing that she had bought a warm cloak yesterday. She put it around her shoulders.  
>Liz had descended half of the stairs when the hall door opened and a woman entered.<p>

Liz's hackles rose. If she had been a cat, her fur would have bristled.  
>The stranger was curvaceous, exotic, and beautiful. She was dressed in a white chemise and wore gold jewelry.<br>Liz couldn't stand her.  
>The woman stood relaxed, and looked up. A small, pejorative smile appeared on her lips. „Oh, I'm sorry."<br>Maker, even her voice sounded like sex, throaty and come-hither.  
>Liz felt sick.<br>Then the stranger said: "Actually I wanted to see Fenris' new girlfriend…but it seems I was wrongly informed. I didn't know you were a cute little boy."  
>Liz continued walking, saying: „Then you are that bitch wearing hardly anything, as the neighbours said?"<br>The other woman approached Liz, wiggling her hips. „Oh, you are a girl indeed. Sorry. I have overlooked something." Her eyes suggestively skimmed Liz.  
>„No problem" Liz said amiably although she would have loved to scratch the other's eyes out. "I can imagine it hard for you to see over your curves."<br>"It must be so convenient not to be diverted by your own body."  
>"It is indeed enormously convenient not to be at risk of falling on the ground because of the weight of my breasts."<br>By now they were so close to each other that Liz could feel the other woman's aura. Oh, how she hated this kind of broad! They always made her feel lanky, boyish and not interesting at all.  
>"Jealous?" the stranger asked.<br>Liz eyes widened. „Of… of you? I – Oh yes, I am so jealous of you! I mean, you surely always make an incredible appearance." The woman's eyes narrowed. „I'm sure everyone would remember me falling while climbing, sucked down by gravity…"

And then they were in the middle of a cat-fight, being foolish and childish and not ladylike at all. They both passed on using their weapons, but fingernails, elbows and fists were distinctly effective, too. The other woman hit Liz on the chin and got a scratch on her cheek in return. She hissed like a snake and lunged at Liz.

"What the hell are you doing?" a grumbling voice made them both stop.  
>Fenris had appeared at the top of the stairs and stared at them as if they had taken leave of their senses.<br>"Fenris" the stranger cooed and approached him. „I am here in order to pick you up."  
>„Your – way of doing that is new", he replied dryly.<br>Isabela – uh, Liz thought. Even her name was melodic.  
>„Well, usually, you are alone."<br>Fenris looked at Liz and said: „This arrangement is only temporary."  
>Liz laughed and snorted: „Stop dreaming, elf. If there is anything temporary with this arrangement, it is your involvement!"<br>„Oh, so sweet" Isabela breathed and put her hands on her ample breasts. "You hurt her."  
>Thereupon he frowned and looked at Liz. She blushed and Isabela laughed. Damn it, damn it, damn it, she'd kill this bitch…!<br>"I'd – better go" the elf said, passed the woman and left the room. Isabela darted a last glance at Liz over her shoulder, then she followed Fenris, lewdly looking at his bottom.

This meant war!

Before really knowing what she did, Liz spun round and rushed back into her chamber. There she slammed her chest open and scrabbled through the costumes and clothes until she found what she was looking for.  
>She didn't plan on being bored a whole day again, and Isabela's behavior gave her more than a big reason to take a closer look at Fenris and his companions.<br>What to do with something you didn't know sufficiently? You observe it.

Two minutes later neighbours saw an old, slightly curved lady with a hunch, a grey bun and a cane in her hand leaving the building. If anyone had looked, he would have noticed her skin was too young, since she'd had no time to make herself up. But Liz held a tissue in front of her face and coughed strenuously, so no one came too near.  
>It was not difficult to follow Isabela and Fenris, because that woman gossiped and teased him all the time. Liz's desire to scratch her eyes out grew, especially when she realized he actually seemed to respond Isabela's flirting time after time.<p>

They went to Lowtown and in front of the Hanged Man they met Hawke and the blonde man in his feather cloak. When Fenris approached, Hawke raised an eyebrow and asked with a little smirk, „How is…?"  
>"Don't waste your breath" Fenris interrupted. "I don't want to talk about this."<p>

_About this?_ Liz thought_. I do have a name, damned elf._

Hearing these words, Isabela laughed and, of course, could not bite back „Leave him alone, Hawke. I got to know the girl and I can understand why he wouldn't like to fiddle with her that much."  
>Liz stood near them in front of a merchant's booth turning her back to the group, and clenching her fists. <em>Say something<em> she summoned Fenris inwardly. _Object to what she's saying._  
>Of course, he didn't do anything like that.<br>"Can I help you, mommy?" the merchant interrupted her internal rantings.  
>As an answer, Liz coughed and pressed her tissue in her face. He swiftly addressed another customer.<br>"…leads to Darktown" Hawke just said. "There we should meet the slave trader and Fenriel, too, hopefully."  
>"What will happen when we find him? Fenris' dark voice asked. He sounded tense.<br>"I haven't decided on that yet" the other man responded. "First, I have to talk with him and see how bad it is in reality."  
>"Like he would tell you that." Fenris' voice sounded hard and irritated.<br>Hawke answered quietly: "My father was a mage, my sister is a mage. I know what they fear and against what they have to fight every day." For a short time, there was silence, then he finished: "Just let uncle Hawke do this, Fenris. You don't know what people already told me. _Oh, by the way, I am posessed by a ghost from the fade… Oh, you know, I love my crossbow…_ And, not to forget, Merrill's nice finding that she likes watching people being robbed…"  
>"That is not funny, Hawke," Fenris growled.<br>"Oh, I have to disagree there" Isabela barged in. "This is very funny. The problem is that you can't take a joke. That doesn't matter though, I'm sure you have other qualities…"  
>For sure she touched him with her slim dark fingers. Liz kept from looking over her shoulder with difficulty.<br>"Are we going now?" the blonde one piped up. "Uncle Anders is itching to spank some evil slave traders."  
>"Oh, if that is what you like, you can just visit me this evening" Isabela said and he laughed quietly.<br>This woman was just outrageous.

When the group headed to Darktown, Liz followed them again. She knew she should just go home, because this area could be dangerous even for an old lady, but her curiosity pressed her on.  
>Darktown was especially one thing: dusty. In addition, it was teeming with Ferelden fugitives like ants in an anthill, sitting at the wayside and begging, their eyes empty.<br>As always, Liz had some money with her sewn into the inside of her tunic, and let some coins fall into one or another opened hand. Having escaped the Blight-just for having to live on the breadline in Kirkwall of all places-was enough misfortune. Right now, Liz had enough money to share.  
><em>Wow. You can be a true philanthropist if you want to,<em> had always said and grinned when she gave him the finger as an answer. She suppressed the thought of his laughing, traitorous face.

By now, Fenris and his companions had reached an outlying place where a man wearing eccentric headgear and a walrus moustache and accompanied by several guards lounged around as though waiting for something.  
>"Oh, see, boys! Volunteers!" Mustachio welcomed Hawke and the others. "Bind them in chains. Let's see what Tevinter will pay for them."<br>A small, dangerous smile flitted across Hawke's face. Then he addressed himself to Fenris. „Make him talk."  
>The elf's tattoos began glowing when he moved ahead. "Sure."<br>The next moment his hand was in Mustachio's chest. He gasped and gurgled for air. Liz could very well empathize with him. When Fenris took back his hand, the man fell prostrate.  
>„Andrastes flaming ass, what did you do?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, „I… however. I… stored the boy in a smuggler's cave at the Wounded Coast. Tevinters will be going there for closing the deal. Can I – go now?"<br>Hawke's smile grew even bigger. "Sure. Oh, wait. I meant, No!"  
>The fight that ensued was hard and without mercy. Liz hid in the shadows and watched fascinated with how Fenris and his companions beat the slave traders down. Hawke used his shield for dashing them to the ground where Isabela finished them off. Anders was offside and swirled his. Liz knew he was a mage but had never thought about it until now.<br>Fenris – he fought the way she had expected. Without mercy. Sturdy. Deadly. His tattoos gleamed and his battle cry pierced her marrow. She shivered when she saw the hate in his blood-spattered face. What had been done to him? And whom could she kill for that?

When everything was over, none of them had serious injuries and Liz involuntarily sighed.  
>Isabela walked around the corpses and examined their equipment. Anders said "What a mess," and made a face.<br>"Guess we need to go to the coast" Hawke said and then turned to Fenris. "Bethany will accompany us this last part. I want you to stay here."  
>The elf's eyes narrowed. „For what reason?"<br>Hawke sighed. „You know why, Fenris. I rate you highly, but I decided to simply not let you know some of the things I do or decide. It is better that way, for both of us."

"Then you only take me with you when it suits you?" Fenris growled. "Like I am a damned slave?"  
>„Oh, come on," Anders said.<br>Fenris whirled around so fast that the mage wasn't able to react in time and was roughly grabbed by the arm. "I am not talking to you, abomination!" He almost spat the words and then let the other man go. "Fine. Leave me here, Hawke. I will not forget it." He stormed off.  
><em>Not bad, this finish<em>, Liz thought and followed him with some distance between them.  
>He got slower when he left Darktown and suddenly he stood still. His head was slightly held aside, like he was listening – or wait for something?<br>_Uh-oh…_ She hesitated, then she shrugged her shoulders and closed up. „You seem churning, my son" she said using her old lady's voice. „Was the killing unable to calm down your soul?"  
>Liz had envisioned a growled response, but instead there was silence. Alarmed, her hackles raised. „Fenris, I…"<br>Even before he grabbed her and dashed her to the wall, she knew that it would be a mistake to touch his arm. Her breath whooshed out of her lungs. He glowed again, and some passersby stopped and stared at them, just before hastily going on their way.  
><em>So much for civil courage<em>, she thought. _And about staying unflashy.  
><em>He lurked above her. She asked herself what an odd scene this was: the strange glowing elf and the old woman.  
>His look fixated on a point above her shoulder and every muscle in his face was tensed and rigid. She really wanted to give him some comfort, but she had no idea how. So she said: „Ah ah, my boy. Your emotions are showing…"<br>His green eyes met hers.  
>He was so near her she could smell him – his spicy, austere, unmistakable scent that seemed to be in every damned corner of the house – and could feel the warmth of his breath. Her heart thumped like mad.<br>Then he chuckled and drew back. She had to stop herself from recoiling because of this unexpected sound. Damned, sullen, erratic elf.  
>„Let me bring you home, Mother."<br>„Oh, are we going to continue there?" She just couldn't shut up. "Now, when you revved me up that much, my boy…?"  
>He rolled his eyes and just walked away.<br>She followed him, a satisfied expression in her face. She had seen the smile he tried unsuccessfully to hide from her.


	5. Chapter 5: Mission Fenris

_**A/N: **_

_**Hello, everyone!**_

_**First of all, thank you very much for your reviews. =) And I am sorry that this translation doesn't go faster. ;-)**_

_** birdymain: Thanks! Sure, I'll do that. **___

_** shadowsilv3r: I did it. And thank you very much. ;-)**_

**Mission Fenris**

Liz was on a mission.  
>A mission called Fenris.<br>Since they were back from Liz' little pursuit, she dealt with her grumpy housemate for twenty-four hours a day. This was no exaggeration, since he even followed her into her dreams.  
>More than ever she was eager to learn everything about him: Where his tattoos were from, why he hated slave traders that much, where he was born, why he couldn't smile, how his lips would feel under hers<br>_… Concentration, Liz, don't digress…_ She wanted to know everything.  
>The only trouble was: Fenris did not want to let her know. He responded to every single question without really answering it. He only humored her byp pretending to answer the personal questions, sidestepping them in a practiced way. "You're from Tevinter, then?" she asked at one point.<br>"It shpuld be like this" was his short, uninformative reply.  
>What was that even supposed to mean? She found it frustrating. And intriguing. Damn it.<br>Talking with him was as simple productive as a chat with the straw doll he used for training every morning.

On day number one after her little trip she had tried the conventional way: knock at the door, smile, ask if he felt like talking. Fenris had looked up, his expression obviously confused and then said that he had to meet with Hawke and the others. If this was the truth, Liz didn't know.  
>On day number two, she went shopping and then to him in order to share her meal with him. Fenris had hesitated, then accepted her offer and answered her questions politely but elusively.<br>Some time later he had opened one of his sacred wine bottles and shared it with Liz. Not until the next morning she realized that he had let her drink the whole bottle, so long until she hadn't been able to think straight.  
>Malicious elf! <p>

On the third day, Liz was poised to just enter his room and let him notice her, simply for getting any reaction. He seemed to be more communicative when he was angry. Sadly, she remembered her promise she didn't plan to break.  
>If there was one thing she had learned about him, it was the fact that he was wary to the depths of his very soul. She would show him that he could trust her. <p>

The fourth day Liz dressed his training manikin in one of her dresses and her grey wig, just to see him smile. In the morning, when Fenris came down the stairs, she sat on the railing and dangled her legs to watch him practice.  
>He carried it off well at first. When he started training, he removed the dress and the wig first and laid both things carefully down in the corner of the room. He did not look at Liz, but she perceived a twitching of his mouth. <p>

The fifth day she felt as exhausted as if she had run a marathon.  
>She decided to absorb her frustration with climbing. Feeling the rough wall under her fingers calmed her, while looking for edges and narrow gaps demanded all her concentration. She did not notice Fenris, who came back from one of his missions and watched her. She climbed on, bit by bit, and got to the ledge of one of the high windows. From there she could look over Hightown, saw the sun going down and felt the warmth on her face. She had not been born in Kirkwall, but she loved this city: Loud, chaotic and full of life, like herself.<br>When she finally turned around again, she saw Fenris coming up the stairs underneath her.  
>"Hi!" Her voice loudly echoed in the big room.<br>He did himself the honour of looking up to her. Then he slightly nodded and entered his room.  
><em>So he can have manners when he wants to<em>, she thought while she started climbing down. _Who are you, my grumpy friend?  
><em>Some minutes later she reached the floor and went to her room to freshen up.

Liz looked at the instead of her face that awaited her in the tinged mirror. She still looked very young young, and her eyes were huge.  
>Like a cow, she thought, and stuck out her tongue at herself.<p>

Then she leapt to her feet, took her favourite trousers and the thin leather tunic and went to Fenris' room. The door was not completely closed.

"Fenris?"

Liz didn't enter the room, but waited.

Still, there was nothing that said she wasn't allowed to take a look through an opened door.

Oh dear. She shouldn't have done this.

The sight of his naked skin lasted only seconds, but it was enough to make her mouth dry. He slipped a dark tunic on, and now she knew at least that his tattoos did not end at the collar of his armor.

"What do you want?"

She took it as "Come in!" and entered.

"I have a suggestion."

His answer was simply raising an eyebrow.

"You surely noticed that during last week, I tried to start a conversation", Liz continued.

The sound he made was something in between a sigh and a growl. "Indeed."

"Well, obviously you are not the communicative type, whereas I am. That is okay, although I think a mouth does not only exist for growling… However", she proceeded with her original topic in order not to talk herself into trouble. "That's my suggestion: Tonight we are playing a game and in return I promise not to address you during the whole next week. Not a single time."

"A - game?"  
>"Nothing bad, don't worry. No strip poker or anything like that. Unless you absolutely want to." Liz could have imagined worse games to play.<p>

"No."

She had expected this reaction. "Fenris, just think: One whole week! No unqualified remarks, no annoying questions, no stupid jokes." She brandished her hands, and dramatically breathed: "Silence!"

This time his answer took longer, but it remained the same.

"No."  
>Liz sighed and looked at him.<p>

He returned her look, impassive and seemingly indifferent. But deep in his eyes she saw a slight challenging glitter.

"Okay, two weeks." She screwed up her eyes. Two weeks of silence – did he not know how hard this was for her?

"You do not give up, do you?"

Liz kept her eyes closed and simply nodded.

He sighed, and then said: "All right."

She opened one eye first, then the other one.

Fenris had already turned around and sat down at the table.

"On the floor."

"Excuse me?"  
>"You have to sit down on the floor!" Liz looked around the room. "Ah, there it is."<p>

Fenris watched her crawling under the table.

When she came up again, she triumphantly held up an empty wine bottle. She sat down facing him.

"The game is called "truth or dare"", she explained.

Fenris froze, and Liz grinned. "You did agree to it, elf. Now there is no way back." She made a circle with a move of her hand. "This is your area." She pointed to a space next to it. "That is mine. The person the bottle chooses can choose between truth or dare the other to do a task."

"That is a stupid game."

"It is not, it's a great game. You are just frightened!"

"I am not… frightened." He muttered in his not existing beard.

"Okay, great we clarified that." Liz let the bottle move. It was her turn. "Truth," she let Fenris know and looked at him invitingly.

He looked like he had swallowed up something sour and then sighed. "Have you always been – like this?"

"Please make it more specific", she said amiably.

"Crazy?"  
>"According to my mother I was born like this." Since he did not comment, Liz pointed at the bottle. "It's your turn."<p>

He turned it. Again her.

"Dare!"

Fenris seemed clueless, so she helped him. "Tell me something I should do."

"I do not know the purpose of this."

"This is a game, Fenris. Let me jump on one leg through the room, or cluck like a hen or…"

"Just be quiet."  
>Liz fell silent and meaningfully raised her eyebrows. Then she turned the bottle again and this time it met him.<p>

Fenris hesitated and then said: "Truth."

Liz didn't know at all where to start. There were so many things she wanted to know about him. Fenris' whole body expressed tension, but she couldn't be charitable now. "What is the meaning of your tattoos?"

Fenris remained silent for a long time. He clenched his hands to fists, and his knuckles turned pale as snow.

Liz' heart turned cold.  
>Then he said: "Slavery."<p>

She didn't go into it and suppressed her impulse of leaning forward and laying a hand on his. "It is your turn again", she eventually said quietly.

He turned the bottle and and breathed in relief when it pointed at Liz again. His question came nearly instantly: "Why are you doing this?"

Liz did not hint at the fact that she had not even chosen. Instead she cocked her head and pretended to intently think. When she finally spoke, she made sure to make her voice light: "Because you are fascinating to me."

He remained silent, his expression unmoved and emotionless.

Liz hadn't wanted this little game to turn out as a dwindling spiral. Still, she couldn't stop now. Fenris would never again agree to something like this.

"I had imagined a more enthusiastic reaction", she joked and turned the bottle again. It repeatedly pointed at her. "Dare."

"Drink half a bottle of wine!"

"You want to make me drunk again!" She pointed accusingly at him. "But this time it won't work." Out of hand, she stood up, fetched the piece of bread on his table and one of the bottles. She bolted it and then drank half of the bottle down in one. Tears came into her eyes and Liz had to cough when she put the bottle down. "You make me an alcoholic, elf!"  
>The next two times it was his turn. The first time, Fenris chose dare and she let him drink the other half of the bottle. The second time he chose the same again.<p>

Liz's eyes narrowed. Fenris returned her look innocently. "Give me a strand of your hair!" No clue where this idea had come from.

He cocked his head and tried to stare her into the ground. This time Liz did not let herself be deterred. She had won more than one poker game. She would not climb back down.

"Well?"

Slightly frowning, Fenris produced his dagger and grabbed his hair. The move seemed clipped and furious.

"Wait", Liz said hastily and stood up. "Let me do it. Wouldn't want you to you cut off your ear." She didn't wait for permission, but just took the dagger, went moved behind him, and cautiously took a strand into her hand.

His hair always seemed thick and dense, but it felt like silk. Liz let go of the strand and instead gently slid her hand up his neck in order to get a less visible strand of his hair.

Fenris shivered. Liz froze when she saw that his tattoos had started to glow.

Had she hurt him? Liz froze breathlessly now. His markings had to mean pain, not only strength and power. How could she have been so careless as to touch him?

However, he did not say anything nor did he try to crush her heart. So Liz chose a strand and gently cut it off. Then she put his dagger down on the floor next to him and went back to her place while she let the hair glide into her pocket.

She absolutely had to end this terrible oppressive silence. "We aren't finished. Come one, don't you understand the principle of the game?"

"I would prefer to talk like this" he said, not looking at her but at the wall. His tattoos didn't glow anymore, but he was still tense.

Liz answered ostentatiously happy: "Okay, I am ravenous, anyway. Let's eat."  
>They fetched something to eat, sat down at the table in Fenris' room and ate silently.<p>

After that, they sat down in front of the hearth. He on the bench, she on the floor, and stared into the flames.

Liz had barely gotten any answers and she wanted to know more about him. Fenris was okay with her talking, but she couldn't think of how to ask her questions without making him angry. Not a single word left her lips.

The silence around them was much too pleasant, and it was good to feel he slowly started to relax next to her. The crackling sound of the fire suffused the room. And later, when she wished him a good night, the warm sound followed her into her sleep.

**A/N: Text and Dialogue -only slightly- changed. **

**(Billini told me it was okay to change her story a little while translating, but I should tell the readers, then. ;-)) **

**I should really say thank you to my beta readers. ^^**

**Thanks, PrismElf, for your great job betaing chapters 1 and 2, thanks to Birdy Main for betaing chapter 3, and thank you to Paula and GJ for your great work, helping me with English expressions and my grammar faults until now. :D **


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